


Penance (The Kabinet Remix)

by brainofck



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainofck/pseuds/brainofck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel makes Jack pay for how he treated him on Euronda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance (The Kabinet Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Penance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/160226) by [zats_clear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zats_clear/pseuds/zats_clear). 



Shut up. _Shut up!_

"Shutupshutupshutup!" Daniel finally yelled at his lifeless, inane, out-of-date, misinformed, stupid _shutup_ journal and flung it across the room. It flew open as it flew, losing density, increasing surface area, and fluttered ineffectually to the ground long before it hit the wall or window or bookshelf or did anything at all satisfying.

A perfect analogy for his relationship with the military component of the Stargate program. Soft sciences. Vaguely useful. Completely impotent. Shut up. Go nowhere.

The whole thing was like wearing a hair shirt. Doing penance for what he caused when he opened the Abydos gate. Doing penance for what he started when he opened Earth's gate. Pure deserved torment for not bringing vital knowledge and understanding back to his colleagues, who were still writing paper after meaningless paper about their finds in Egypt or early Europe or… or… or… _anywhere_ …

He took a deep calming breath and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Not for the first time Daniel thought about how academics belonged in academia. It was both beneath him and beyond him to continue to fight day after day to bring some practical relevance to painstaking cataloguing; complex and controversial historical research; difficult, obscure translation to people who couldn't see the importance of his work despite the fact that _they exploited his very work every single goddamned day of the goddamned week_.

He took another deep breath, set down the glass of water and reached into the fridge for the nicely chilled kabinet instead. He grabbed the pull from the drawer and removed the cork on the way out to the deck.

He took a long drink straight from the bottle. It was cool and crisp and light. He flopped onto the deck chair.

"Daniel, shut up! Is that clear enough?"

The words rang in Daniel's head. He wondered how long before Jack tried to mend fences. He would. Just like everyone else in the stupid program who realized over and over and _over_ that Daniel was right. Like it was a new discovery every time. He took another drink of his wine. It was sweet and alcoholic. It was rushing to his head via his empty stomach. Nothing like a little wine for breakfast. Not that it wasn't noon or anything but really, who ate before noon anyway? It was uncivilized.

He heard the knocking through the open door to the deck. He laughed and tipped the bottle back again. He was always right. Always.

And as always, completely predictable. He was angry at Jack and Jack's patronizing, militaristic mindset. Furious, in fact. And anticipating Jack's attempts to ham-handedly apologize and make it all right with "his archaeologist" again. And now Jack had arrived and Daniel's dick had its favorite fantasy where Jack's apology was even more hand's on than usual and now he was getting a boner faster than Dr. Lee when Sam talked about… well, when Sam _talked_.

Well, Jack could go away, because Daniel wasn't going to suffer through some lame beer apology on his own personal time. Let Jack come to his office on Monday and possibly grovel in front of some of Daniel's staff. It would be good for morale.

He sloshed back yet another gulp of the wine and let it thunk down onto the deck.

He winced a little at the noise. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he heard the unnatural clatter of wind chimes.

He ground his teeth, even as his dick got harder. The bastard was actually going to bring his stupid beer and pizza or whatever the fuck around the back of Daniel's house. He could hear him in the shrubbery now.

Then Daniel spotted the bottle of suntan lotion he had left out the last time he was trying to do something about his yard. He furrowed his brow, wondering if it was bad for sunscreen to sit outside for a couple of weeks.

Who the hell cared? It wasn't like he was using it for anything but its lubricant qualities, and those would be obvious as soon as he got the stuff on his cock.

Moving fast before Jack could reasonably stop him by actually making it through the bushes and out into the yard, Daniel grabbed the bottle and poured it out into his hand. He set the bottle down and popped his button fly and yay for lazy Saturdays and commando because Coppertone meet dick meet Jack. With whom you will find you have much in common. Except…

 _Hhmmmmmm_ , Daniel sighed to himself. Jack is nowhere near as lucky as you.

 _So, Jack, stay or go?_ Daniel thought. He really did wonder. He always had. Half the time Jack was his best friend, the other half the time, he was a disrespectful jackass. Daniel could sometimes get whiplash as Jack changed from one to the other in the space of minutes. It had a very high school feel to it. Yes, he really did wonder if Jack wasn't suffering from the need to pull the cute girl's pigtails. Or something. So Daniel wondered if Jack would stay or go. And he had a pet theory.

And? Daniel was always right. Because Jack didn't go.

Though between his hand moving on his ever-hardening, ever-growing cock and his fingernails on his nipple, he was having trouble following much of what Jack was doing.

It didn't stop Daniel from imagining Jack accepting the little show Daniel was putting on as an invitation.

 _Come on, Jack, touch it_ , he thought, making himself pant. He wondered what would happen if he said it out loud. Just imagining it, just knowing that Jack was _right there_ and would hear it, was enough to tighten Daniel's balls and bring him off in record time. He reflexively brought his other hand over, capturing most of the shot, smearing it back down over himself, milking more cum into his hands.

Daniel imagined he heard Jack whimper.

Then he didn't have to imagine the rustling in the bushes as Jack made his getaway.

Daniel lay pleasantly warm and tingly on the lawn chair, wondering in Jack would try knocking on the front door again.

 _"Is that clear enough for you, Daniel?"_ asked the Jack voice in his head.

"Shut up," Daniel muttered, rolling off the chair and leaving the wine in the sun, shuffling into the kitchen with his limp dick hanging out and his hands covered in sunscreen and ejaculate.

"Just shut up."

Rinsing his hands in the kitchen sink felt like penance, too.


End file.
